


Flawless Victory

by Kantayra



Category: Smallville
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-07
Updated: 2006-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"It was 4:42 on a Friday afternoon in mid-March when Clark suddenly figured out how to defeat Lex Luthor once and for all."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Flawless Victory

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is ripped off shamelessly from Mortal Kombat. Thanks so much to txtequilanights for all her helpful beta comments.

It was 4:42 on a Friday afternoon in mid-March when Clark suddenly figured out how to defeat Lex Luthor once and for all.

He hadn’t really been _trying_ at the time to come up with a way to thwart the greatest criminal mastermind the world had even known. Oh no, he’d just been leaning back in his chair, pretending to read his copy, while he secretly played Spider Solitaire and fantasized about the pizza he would order once he got home. It was nothing, really, that every single other person on the planet didn’t do every Friday.

Why this particular Friday should be so special as to reveal the perfect scheme was beyond him, but the plan was so _startling_ in its simplicity that Clark lost his precarious balance on his chair and fell to the floor with a resounding ‘thump.’

At the desk across from him, Lois snorted in amusement. “The week’s not over yet, Smallville. Try to refrain from falling asleep until then.” And then she returned to her phone and proceeded to argue with what sounded like a reluctant source.

Clark blinked and rose slowly from the floor. He looked around the news office. Nothing _seemed_ different. There were no blazing signs or flashing lights indicating ‘VICTORY OVER LUTHOR IS IMMINENT!’ All in all, it was rather unmomentous. There was something not quite right about that.

Clark spent the next hour second-guessing himself. After all, his plan was too obvious. Was it really possible that he just hadn’t thought of it all these years? Or, was there some fatal flaw in his plan that he had yet to detect?

Or maybe his plan was _so_ obvious that he’d just never thought of it? Like that one time Lois had spent ten minutes tearing up her desk looking for her sunglasses while she was wearing them.

That last thought made him almost giddy, and one part of him couldn’t wait to try it while another part of him was absolutely terrified. This would just be such a major change to the _status quo_ , and…

Wow.

“Smallville? Kent?” Lois snapped her fingers in front of his face. “ _Clark_?”

“Huh? What?” He blinked in rapid surprise.

“Jeez, what’s up with you today? You’re even more of a space cadet than usual.” Lois was slipping on her coat, ready to head out for the day. “You want to catch dinner at The Garden? I really don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

Clark stared blankly into her eyes for quite some time before her words fully registered. “Uh… Actually, there’s something I have to do.”

Lois raised one immaculate eyebrow.

“An old friend,” Clark clarified. “I have to meet with an old friend.”

A mischievous smile crossed Lois’ face, but she just shrugged it off. “Fine, I’ll settle for cable and take-out.” She gave him a wave over her shoulder. “Later.” The amusement in her voice made it all too clear that she’d be pressing for any and all details come Monday morning.

There were times when working with Lois was kind of irritating, especially when one wanted a private life. Clark waited until she was safely in the elevator before making his mad dash for the roof and beyond.

Really, it was better to try this plan out now before he chickened out.

***

“I want the Sharpe deal finalized by Monday morning, first thing,” Lex demanded angrily into his cell phone, dropping his briefcase onto the chair by the door forcefully. With that final proclamation, he hung up, dropped his cell phone onto the chair as well, and let out a weary sigh.

There were days when he loved his work. And then there were days like today when contracts fell through and the EPA was all but pounding on his door as soon as he got to his office and he found out that Aquaman had trashed his latest prototype and he had to spend his entire lunch ‘break’ on the phone with the Pentagon explaining why there was yet _another_ delay.

The only antidote to days like this was to get really drunk and really laid and, possibly, really evil. Lex hadn’t decided in which order he’d pursue those objectives yet, but they made for a promising evening, if he could just get his headache to go away.

He left the lights off to help alleviate the aforementioned headache and headed over to his desk by rote memory. He’d gotten 71 new e-mails in the time it had taken to drive from LexCorp Towers back home. If tomorrow were a business day, it would be three times that. Sometimes Lex didn’t know how there were enough hours in the day for him to exist.

He stared at his inbox for a minute, the blue-white light of the screen the only illumination. His eyes were quite tired from looking at a computer all day, anyway.

So, with a defiant flick of his wrist, he shut his computer off and officially informed his job “fuck you” for the evening.

With a drawn-out yawn, he rose again, slowly pulling off his tie and letting it fall over the back of his desk chair. His jacket followed, and already he felt better for it. Really, he was just feeling exhausted right now and, after a little nap, he could get back to taking over the world, right?

Right.

With that thought firmly in mind, he collapsed onto his bed face-down, nose buried in the pillow. _Just a few minutes…_

“You work too much,” a sleepy voice informed him.

“Tell me about it,” Lex grunted into his pillow, already half asleep.

A moment passed.

Two.

Then…

“What the hell?”

Lex leapt off the bed with a shout, legs tangling in the sheets as he did so and tripping him up so that he fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap. He fought in vain with them for a few frustrating moments, and then he was free and on his feet and diving for the gun he kept on the underside of the bedside table, in case of nightly intruder.

Like, say, the intruder who had been sleeping in his bed.

“Who the hell are you and what—?” Lex fumbled for the bedside lamp and finally turned it on, albeit knocking the shade askew in the process. A weirdly distorted, half-white, half-violet-filtered light filled his bedroom.

And then he saw who his intruder was, and he kind of went a little bit insane. That is, if he wasn’t insane already and seeing things.

“Hey.” Clark yawned and stretched against the mattress like a long, lean feline. And Lex could make out exactly how long and lean Clark _was_ , because had he mentioned the fact that the parts of Clark that he could see were _completely_ naked? The sheets covered Clark from the waist down, but above…

Oh, above was a picture straight out of every wet dream Lex had ever had.

Lex gaped quite a lot, and he was pretty sure he looked not unlike many aquatic piscine species. His hand with the gun fell listlessly to one side. His fingers felt limp and, dimly in the background beyond all the screaming and confusion in his mind, he heard the gun fall to the floor, muffled by the thick lavender carpet. Now, that just wasn’t proper gun safety…

That last thought made him giggle, and he realized with a bit of alarm that he was kind of hysterical. Clearly, he needed to pull himself together, figure out why on earth Clark was in his bed, and then…

Well, he’d deal with the ‘and then’ when he got to it. Really, there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for all this. Something involving large quantities of Red Kryptonite, perhaps.

“Clark…” Lex’s voice was steady, at least. Thank heaven for small miracles. “What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

Clark’s response what was really synched it for Lex. Oh yes, he’d finally completely lost his mind…

***

“I surrender,” Clark answered with an amused little smile. “You win.”

Lex’s mouth opened and closed several times, emitting weird little wheezing sounds.

Really, this was kind of fun. Why hadn’t he ever tried to throw Lex off-balance like this before? Of course, if Lex didn’t start to, y’know, _breathe_ again in the near future, there might be complications what with Lex passing out on the floor and all.

“Breathe,” Clark advised helpfully.

Lex blinked, shook his head, and took a deep breath as if just realized that his lungs were being starved. And then Clark got a reverberating, “ _What_?”

“You win,” Clark repeatedly very slowly, as if Lex were a particularly dim child. “Congratulations. Whaddaya wanna do now?” He shifted his hips slightly, and the sheet around his waist slipped another three inches lower.

Lex’s eyes followed the sheet’s movement with rapt attention, and he let out an audible gulp. “I-I’m calling Mercy…” And, wow, Lex’s voice was actually _shaking_.

“There’s no point.” Clark shrugged and grinned. “I’m not your enemy anymore. I quit.”

Lex’s brow furrowed at that, and then he let out a flustered, “You can’t just _quit_!”

“Sure, I can. I just did,” Clark answered easily.

“You’ve lost your mind…” Lex whispered, half to himself, eyes unfocused as he tried to process all that was happening.

“No,” Clark corrected him, “I’ve just decided that fighting each other is stupid. So I give up. You win.”

“Then what on earth are you doing in my bed?” Lex demanded, circling the room warily like Clark was a particularly dangerous rabid beast that Lex didn’t want to startle.

“Well…” Clark began. “Since we’re no longer enemies, I figure there’s no reason I can’t be your friend again.”

“My naked friend. In my bed.” Lex sounded dazed and so very incredulous. This was probably all a bit much for him. Clark felt a moment of complete sympathy for him.

“C’mere,” he patted the bed beside him. “Relax. I can give you a backrub and explain everything.”

A shudder ran visibly down Lex’s body at the word ‘backrub’ and his perfectly-tailored pants were suddenly displaying a very prominent bulge. “Have you noticed any unusual red rocks around lately?” Lex inquired, backing up further.

Clark rolled his eyes. “I’m not on Red-K, Lex. I swear.” He sat up, letting the sheet slip even further. “I just figured…” He lowered his eyes and looked up at Lex from under thick lashes. “I mean, it wasn’t _just_ friendship we had back in Smallville, right?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I know I wanted more. And, unless you were sending the worst mixed signals ever, you wanted me too…”

“Fuck…” Lex breathed in astonishment, eyes wide.

“So,” Clark concluded happily, “I didn’t see any more reason to beat around the bush.”

“Oh, you didn’t?”

Clark was beginning to worry that Lex might have suffered from permanent brain damage from the shock. Not that the idiotic gaping look wasn’t cute on Lex, but Clark had kind of been hoping that his entire plan would come to fruition tonight, so that he could get really laid. Contrary to popular belief, Superman didn’t get laid _nearly_ enough. “Come to bed,” he requested softly, running his fingers over the mattress beside him.

Lex choked and began coughing up a fit. “You’ve been possessed,” he finally concluded. “Brain-washed. Red Kryptonite combined with acid…”

“Yeah, well, if that’s the case, a _good_ arch-nemesis would take advantage of the situation,” Clark pointed out.

Lex’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is all about?” he demanded. “I’ve failed to meet yet another of your lofty expectations?”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Only _you_ could be insecure that you’re not a good enough enemy…”

“This is all a trick,” Lex announced with triumph, “a trap. Did you honestly think I’d fall for it?” The old confidence was returning to his voice now that he thought that he’d figured Clark out.

Clark sighed. “Are you coming to bed?”

Lex reached for the intercom instead. “Mercy!” he called in what Clark has privately dubbed his ‘over-privileged brat voice.’

With a reluctant shrug, Clark got up out of bed. “It was only a suggestion.” Lex’s eyes instantly narrowed in on the very juicy bits that Clark had just exposed. He fought back a groan when the tip of Lex’s tongue emerged to wet his lips. Instead, he stretched pointedly and then picked up his costume from where he’d left it beside the dresser. “I’ll see you around,” he offered with a coy smile and a little wave.

And then he took off from the balcony, still as naked as the day his parents found him, leaving a downright stupefied Lex in his wake. Really, he should’ve known that Lex would try to fight back, even if Clark _had_ come up with the perfect plan. Lex was stubborn like that. But, if anything, their little encounter had proven to Clark that his plan was even better than he’d first thought.

Oh yes, victory was so very inevitably his…

***

Over the last week, Lex had gone from being a contentedly evil villain, to a flummoxed, blithering idiot. It was not a transformation he approved of in any way, shape, or form.

The source of this sudden, baffling change was, of course, his greatest enemy and, it seemed, the guy who was now trying really desperately to get into his pants. Really, Lex’s own about-face was _nothing_ compared to the complete personality transplant Clark seemed to have gotten last Friday.

That first night, Lex now knew, Clark had given up easily, but only because he had a back-up plan. Lex had gone to bed that night completely unnerved; he’d woken up to soft wet kisses and breakfast in bed from Byerly’s bakery down the street.

Sunday, he’d gone to a charity benefit only to be cornered in the bathroom and have his neck nuzzled thoroughly amidst very blatant offers that they get out of there for some quality private time.

Monday, Lex had all but barricaded himself in his office, only to discover that he had half a dozen e-mails, each entailing the details of Clark’s day, his random thoughts, and how he wanted to strangle Lois. Lex couldn’t help but save the e-mails on that last topic.

Tuesday, he’d come into work to find flowers on his desk. Red tulips, in fact, that had the Kent Organic Farms logo on the label. Next to them was a batch of Martha’s homemade gingersnaps, which Lex had insisted were probably poisoned and refused to eat. Mercy had volunteered to be his own personal guinea pig and eaten half the batch before Lex was fully convinced that they were safe. After that, he’d tried to remain strong, but they were _Martha’s cookies_ and he hadn’t had time to take lunch. Really, it had been a shocking lapse in strength and fortitude.

Wednesday, Lex had finally had enough and decided it was time to remind Clark exactly why Superman and Lex Luthor were the most infamous archenemies of all time. A team of LexBot Version 6.01 drones was released upon the military base down at Cape Carter for the purpose of hijacking the Justice Assured Defense Project. The project had been designed to take out the Justice League in the event that the League went rogue. Lex had been one of the military’s top civilian advisors on the project and thus had had inside knowledge on where testing was being carried out. Thus, his drones knew exactly where to go to steal the prototype Electron Pulse Canon which, Homeland Security had assured him, could take out Superman in a single blow. He’d then had the Canon dragged, highly-conspicuously and complete with an entourage of killer robots, back to LexCorp Labs, while every siren in the Cape Carter base blared into the night, loud enough to be heard even in the outskirts of Metropolis. Lex had sat patiently at his desk, hands folded, as his robot army moved the giant phallus-shaped weapon around the main floor of his lab, in ready and eager anticipation.

And he’d waited and waited.

And waited.

Finally, at two in the morning, a full eight hours after the original theft, he’d given up, hung his head, and gone back home.

“What kept you?” Clark had yawned from the bed when he came in.

“I hate you,” Lex had informed him tersely as he undressed.

“Does that mean you’re kicking me out again?”

Lex had just grunted, collapsed beside him, and yanked all the blankets over for himself. “You’d _better_ not snore.”

Thursday, in a fit of self-disgust, he’d anonymously returned the military’s stolen property. Clark had dropped by his office afterwards for “a quick lunch date” and had babbled with every bit of wide-eyed exuberance that Lex remembered from his teenage years, pointedly licking all the secret sauce from his fingers in a downright obscene manner.

And now, here it was, Friday again, and Lex was going completely out of his mind.

“You’ve gone completely out of your mind,” he informed Clark when he landed outside Lex’s window, brandishing a bottle of red wine that Lex was 99% sure came from his own cellar. Either that, or Clark had become a professional sommelier behind Lex’s back.

“Maybe I’ve just finally come to my senses,” Clark retorted with a coy little smile that, really, could have come straight out of Lex’s own playbook. Then he’d looked Lex up and down, slowly and seductively, and very carefully wetted his lips. “Wine?”

Lex gulped and went for the glasses. Behind him, he heard the cork pop. That seemed quite symbolic.

“Here.” Clark very carefully poured the wine into Lex’s glass, his brow furrowed in absolute concentration. Then he looked up and flashed Lex one of those perfect, radiant smiles that seemed composed of sunshine.

 _He’s an alien, Alexander. And the enemy. Keep your head in the game, damn it!_ Lex shook his head clear and took a very long gulp of the wine, barely bothering to savor the subtlety of its body.

“You do know you’ve already won, right?” Clark reminded him. It seemed to be Clark’s catch phrase of late.

Lex, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so sure. Victory was supposed to feel triumphant, powerful. He was supposed to feel _in control_ , damn it! For the first time since the sky had fallen back in Smallville, he was supposed to be the complete master of his domain, and…

“There’s nothing to fight anymore…” Clark finished his own wine with a resolute gulp, and Lex could see Clark’s excitement, plain as day, through the tight red spandex over Clark’s groin. With a slinky stride not at all familiar on Superman, Clark prowled over to him. “I think we should celebrate your victory,” he whispered right against Lex’s ear.

Lex held back the shudder that threatened to wrack through his body. Whatever Clark was up to, this part was the most insidious. In the past, Lex had always known that his greatest weakness was the absolutely _visceral_ reaction he had to Clark’s body, but he’d never had to test the limits of his resolve since Clark had never laid himself out on a platter before.

This, more than anything, was what convinced Lex that he hadn’t won at all. If he were the victor, he shouldn’t be this close to surrendering himself.

“Kal-El…” Lex whispered, fighting for control.

“Clark,” Clark insisted. “C’mon, Lex. Haven’t you worked enough this week?” His fingers slid around Lex’s wrist, giant hands almost large enough to completely encircle Lex’s. He took the empty wine glass from Lex’s hand and set it down on the desk. “Come with me…”

It was a moment of weakness. Really, there was no excuse for it. But he’d been fighting non-stop for a whole _week_ against the most ethereally beautiful creature known to mankind. A being sent down from the heavens themselves, the picture-perfect ideal of a man. Lex had fought so long, and Clark was so beautiful, and…

“ _Yes_.”

***

The air, even this high up, was crisp and cool, but not too cold. Below, the lights of Metropolis glittered like stars across the Earth, little perfect rows of white lights. Metropolis was the most beautiful city in the world when seen like this; Clark knew, because he’d seen every city in the world by night, but Metropolis was always the best.

Of course, that was probably his own personal bias speaking. No matter hard he sometimes tried, he could never forget that Lex had been the one to place that row of streetlights down in the urban renewal project on 59th, or that those buildings there were built as part of LexCorp’s last expansion, or that the landing lights for that airport there served as the landing strip for Lex’s own personal jet. Metropolis was a canvas, and Lex was the master artist who had painted it in all its modern brilliance. How could Clark find it anything less than extraordinary?

Lex was always like that, magnificent and dangerous all at the same time. He was the strongest person Clark had ever known – and Clark was _Superman_ so he’d known a lot of really strong people – so, really, Clark should’ve known that Lex couldn’t be defeated so easily. Of course, Lex had to put up a heroic struggle, even in the face of inevitable defeat. He was _Lex_.

Lex’s stubbornness at the outset of the week had actually been kind of cute, not that Clark would ever admit that aloud: not if he wanted to live a long, happy life in Lex’s arms. Because, now that Clark wasn’t fifteen and completely oblivious anymore, Lex’s desire was so _transparent_. No amount of hands jamming down into pockets to conceal trouser bulges or fondling of phallic objects while specifically avoiding staring at certain parts of Clark’s anatomy could fool Clark now. Lex wanted him. It was plain as day.

What had been harder to deal with were Lex’s attempts to make Clark hate him all over again. Because Lex couldn’t go down without a struggle, Clark had had to spend an entire evening, sitting on his hands, watching Lex commit the world’s most blatantly atrocious felony, and do nothing.

It had gone against everything Clark had ever done not to react, not to save the day. That was what Clark _was_ , and Lex knew that, knew it enough to exploit Clark’s weaknesses to try to end the truce that was slowly defeating him.

In so many ways, Clark was proud of his strength that night. For too long, all Lex had had to do to get Clark’s attention was break the law in some heinous way. Now, Clark had made it quite clear that, not only would such temper tantrums no longer catch his eye, they would also keep Lex occupied and away from home, where Clark would be waiting for him. For one of the most brilliant men alive, simple positive reinforcement had extraordinary effects on Lex’s actions. Clark figured it was because Lex had never gotten that sort of thing as a child. Try to hurt Lex, and he’d raze you to the ground; offer Lex even the smallest bit of affection, and he was yours forever. Clark had known that once. But somewhere over the years he’d forgotten it. Until last Friday…

“Where are we going?”

Lex’s arms were warm around his neck, tight where he’d latched on the instant Clark had taken him up in his arms and carried him off into the night. Lex had once been afraid of heights, Clark knew, but he didn’t seem frightened now. He clung to Clark, but his heartbeat and breathing were steady, and he felt so warm and relaxed in Clark’s arms.

“Where do you want to go?” Clark asked softly, turning his head so that his and Lex’s lips were only inches apart.

Lex’s eyes dropped and darkened. “You think you’re very clever, don’t you?” he asked lightly.

“You told me yourself,” Clark couldn’t fully keep the satisfaction out of his voice. “You’ll do _anything_ for your friends.”

“Including conceding defeat?”

“There was only one way to find out…”

“So, shall I surrender? Can I trust you, Clark?” Lex’s eyelashes looked dark and heavy and far more delicate than Clark had ever remembered.

Clark gulped. “Well, I’m an alien with super powers who’s capable of taking over the entire world without much effort, really. I’m also totally in love with you. You tell me.”

“Mmm,” Lex hummed thoughtfully. And then, more quietly, “You win.” Lex’s lips brushed Clark’s cheek, impossibly warm and wet in the chilly night air. “I surrender.”

“Isn’t that _my_ line?” Clark teased.

And they kissed for the first time, floating between the pinpricks of lights in Metropolis below and vault of stars in the heavens above.

***

Lex had never known anything like this before. He’d never just allowed himself to _be beaten_. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten the idea into his head that it was the worst thing imaginable. Probably from his father.

As usual, Lionel couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Surrender meant lying back amid silk sheets, letting the clothing be stripped from his body one piece at a time. It meant huge, warm hands caressing every inch of his skin, mapping him out like he was the most precious thing in all the world. It meant gentle lips on his, perfect and pure, tasting him completely before moving down, nipping at one nipple, then another, following his solar plexus down, the ridges of stomach muscle, hipbone and thigh and – holy fuck! – cock.

Surrender was gasping in pleasure, writhing in ecstasy, as the most perfect cocksucking mouth he’d ever seen swallowed him down, wet and obscene, slurping with an amateur’s lack of grace and abundant enthusiasm. Defeat was coming hard, sharp and fast, down Clark’s throat, losing everything he was as he fell into a moment of perfect bliss. Abject submission was curling into Clark afterwards, holding him close, tangling their legs and just _breathing_ together.

“Hmm…” It seemed to be the only thing Lex was capable of saying. Oh yes, this conquest most certainly went to Clark. In another lifetime, he might actually have cared.

“You taste even better than I always fantasized you would,” Clark murmured against his cheek before flicking his tongue out and tracing the curve of Lex’s ear.

“God…” Lex gasped. His vocabulary didn’t seem to be increasing any time soon.

“So, I take it you accept the terms of my surrender, then?” And Clark’s voice was so very _careful_ , like he had something up his sleeve. Speaking of which, why was Clark still wearing that ridiculous costume, anyway? He really needed to be very naked and now. And what had Clark been talking about again?

Oh, right. “‘Terms’?” Lex repeated suspiciously.

“You stop doing evil stuff, I stop thwarting you, and instead we fuck a lot.”

Lex had never once in his life seen those full, succulent lips form the word ‘fuck’ before. He knew this because it was quite the erotic thrill. There was just something so _sinful_ about hearing Superman talk dirty. And, heaven help him, but a little whimper escaped his own lips in response.

He definitely wasn’t at his negotiating best. “Mmm-kay.” And, really, he shouldn’t have said that. Because Clark was making all sorts of demands, and _Lex_ was supposed to be the one who’d just won here, and…

Oh, _fuck_!

Clark took that moment to pull back up off of the bed and slowly, seductively, all but _peeled_ the costume off of his sun-kissed body. Golden, sculpted muscles appeared before him. Dark round nipples and bronzed chest and dark wiry curls and a long, thick cock that had been kept locked up in its spandex prison for _far_ too long.

“Lex?” Clark looked up at him from under shaggy, unruly bangs. “Can I…?”

“ _Everything_ ,” Lex agreed fervently. “Anything.”

Defeat was so very sweet, indeed.

***

Clark had known, that first day when he’d come up with his plan, that this would work. He should’ve known from the very beginning. Over the years, he’d seen people threaten, blackmail, kidnap, arrest, attack, beat up, and attempt to murder Lex Luthor. And, always, Lex had come out triumphant.

And then there was that one time when there had been an accident on a certain bridge, and someone had saved Lex’s life, smiled at him, laughed with him, joked and been his friend, defended him and loved him above all else. And Lex had been his for life, if only that particular idiot could have remembered that _that_ was the way to defeat Lex – with kindness – rather than any of the alternatives.

But, whatever. Clark was learning.

For example, he was learning that, yeah, Lex would make sexy little growling sounds when you sucked his cock, but if you _really_ wanted him to moan? Fingers in his ass was definitely the way to go.

He was also learning that the sexiest sound in the universe was Lex gasping out his name. The sexiest sight was most definitely Lex’s lips, wet with sweat and spit, parting in a perfect ‘O’ of ecstasy. The sexiest touch was the skin of Lex’s inner thighs wrapping around Clark’s waist. Smell was the subtlety of Lex’s perfume. And taste, of course, was Lex’s come when Clark sucked him off.

“You’re so sexy.” He was also learning that articulating all these little thoughts that ran through his head drove Lex absolutely _wild_.

Lex bucked against him, seeking out the curve of Clark’s cock, and Clark had to shut his eyes and brace himself to keep from losing it then and there. Why hadn’t it been like this between them all along? Oh, right…

“We were _really_ idiots not to do this before,” Clark commented, lining himself up with Lex’s puckered hole.

“Critique later. Fuck me now.”

And, God, Lex was so _bossy_ , and that was possibly the sexiest thing of all.

With a whimper, Clark couldn’t hold back any longer and began to push his way slowly inside.

Another thing he’d learned: Lex always kept lube in his top dresser drawer. Which was good right now, because Lex was so _tight_. It took every fiber of Clark’s being to go slow, to give Lex time to relax around him and welcome him inside deeper. But Lex giving him _everything_ , inch by inch? Was well worth the wait.

“Oh, God, _Lex_!” Clark breathed out to the heavens above when he was finally completely sheathed, his balls hot and heavy against Lex’s ass.

Several harsh pants sounded from Lex’s throat, and then a soft, needy sound that Clark would never have imagined that someone like Lex could make. “Please, Clark. Fuck…”

Clark really didn’t need to be told twice. He began thrusting hard and fast, and he wasn’t going to last long like this, because it was _Lex_ and he’d been dreaming of this moment since he was a star-struck high-school kid who was too clueless to realize what he _really_ wanted from Lex.

“Oh God, oh fuck, oh God, oh fuck…” Lex had begun a little mantra in time with Clark’s thrusts, and hearing Lex like that, knowing that it was all for _him_ …

He came embarrassingly fast, only five minutes at best. Superman wasn’t so super today, it seemed. But that didn’t matter because he’d flown among the stars, risen high into the sky and plummeted back down to earth, shot fire forth from his eyes, and _none_ of it held a candle to finally making love to Lex. He came hard and fast and messy, and he could feel Lex buck and twist beneath him, impossibly making it even _better_.

Somewhere in there, he must have lost some time. Because when he opened his eyes again, he’d collapsed atop Lex, and – holy fuck – was that _good_.

Lex looked at him with silver-blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. He glanced down pointedly, and Clark’s gaze followed to see Lex’s hand wrapped around his cock, so smooth and pale and completely hairless. Three long, hard pulls, and Lex was coming again, between them, and – oh – he was so beautiful like that, his eyes locked with Clark’s before they unfocused due to the pleasure.

Lex’s come was hot and sticky between their bodies, but right then Clark didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but that he was here and he had finally gotten his victory. Although if the little smile on Lex’s face was any indication, it seemed he thought that he’d just won, too.

“You’re quite incredible, you realize,” Lex commented lazily, finally sounding like _Lex_ again, rather than the flustered guy Clark had been tormenting all week. Which was good because this was how Clark liked him best: sleek, seductive, and perfectly in control. In short, so very Lex.

“Mmm… No, you are,” Clark countered teasingly. “Maybe I win, after all.”

Lex gave him that sexy, flirtatious little smile that had been making his knees weak since he was fifteen. “No, I most certainly won tonight.”

Clark grinned at him. Now _this_ seemed like a battle worth fighting for the rest of their lives.


End file.
